Thank-you Notes on Xmas Cards - Virus on downstairs laptop

First order of the day was getting out as many Xmas cards as possible.

It's the evening now and I've got a lot of writing to do, so need some caffeine. Stopped off at the new Willow Grove Wawa. Tried half a dozen coffee flavors. BUT every single canister of coffee was COLD.

I keep my list of contacts on this pumpkin-colored paper.

BTW, the coffee is terrible. Am too lazy to brew my own. I just keep pouring more hot water into the 12-oz cup.

Quick story: I'm at the Wa, and I see a shiny penny on the floor.

Kelly, I said to a little girl, whose name I knew cuz her mom had just called her.

Look! there's a shiny penny on the floor! Kelly went to pick it up and then I saw another one and told her about it.

Thanks, said Mom, but I don't want her picking up things from the dirty floor.

Ohhhh, I said, shocked.

And then you know what Kelly's mom did?

She paid for my coffee.

Thank you so much, I said, and told her the story about the cold coffee as we walked out the door.

Kelly, hmmm, you don't hear that name much any more.

Am guessing it took about three hours to address all them cards.

I multi-tasked by listening to the Silas Marner audio book in the kitchen.


 Author George Eliot is really Mary Ann Evans. Altho female writers were common in her day, she didn't want to be known as a romance writer, which most women were considered.

Eliot had a most unusual lifestyle which I encourage you to read about here. 

British writers Martin Amis and Julian Barnes have called her Middlemarch the greatest English novel ever written!

I sent a slew of thank-yous to people at the Giant Supermarket, including Joe Bushman. I called up the Giant to get his last name. Then when I was there tonite - eating a salad and a piece of catfish - in the coffee shop - I saw he was still at work.

Walking past him he said, "Ruth, you shouldn't have done that." I thanked him profusely for all the help he's been to me.

Everyone loves Joe!

"Listen, Joe," I said. "I want you to try that tea I sent you."



So Mailman Ken arrives around 11 am.

I've got a dozen cards all ready for him.

Then I write some more, hop in my car and find him up the street.

"Even tho I'm Jewish," I say to him, "I like sending out Christmas cards."

I always feel like I have to justify myself to that man.

Then, around 3 in the afternoon, I go after him again.

There's his truck

on Division Avenue. I cruise slowly up n down the street but can't find him. I'm listening to a mystery audio book in the car.

I park behind him, turn off the motor, and wait.

There he is.

I pour the cards into his hand.

"The gift that keeps on giving," says he.

"Did you always have that beard?" I ask.

"Yes," he said.

"Father Christmas," I say.

"That's me," he says.

*

Around noon, I gobbled up my delicious vegetable soup with melted cheese in it, then packed up my laptop to take to the computer guy around the corner.

Joe cannot figure out what happened to the computer. I can receive emails but I cannot send them!

Luckily, I've got a desktop upstairs.

He tells me he's a hacker, a good hacker. He works with the FBI and the police to catch hackers. The worst one, he said, is a 24-yo female hacker from Turkey. She's a programmer. She's very very smart, he said. She hasn't yet decided if she'll be a good hacker or a bad one.

Why do they hack? I ask.

It's fun for them, he says.

He also finds it fun.

Okay, upstairs I go to begin to write. May the spirit of George Eliot live in my pocket.